


Road To Glory

by DRHPaints



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, Documentary Now! (TV 2015), Globesman - Fandom
Genre: 1960s, Anal Fingering, Angst, Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Glory Hole, Guilt, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Period Typical Attitudes, Public Blow Jobs, Shame, Slut and Whore Used Once, Smut, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 15:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Wrestling with his sexuality, a tortured Pete returns to a truck stop glory hole spotted earlier on his Amalgamated Globes circuit to indulge.
Relationships: Pete Reynolds/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Road To Glory

Newspaper crinkling beneath his knees, Pete peered around the filthy walls, habitually ticking his tiny bowtie before removing the strip of fabric to tuck in the pocket of his wool suit. _Remember what happened last time, Reynolds?_

Pete told himself he wouldn’t come back. After each and every Amalgamated Globes circuit, Pete tried, he truly did, to drive past.

But without fail, his convertible veered into the truck stop parking lot, Pete leaving his hat, his briefcase, his qualms behind as he once again ducked into the dingey showers. 

Initially when Pete stumbled across this cruel oasis of temptation, laughter easy and comradery loose with the guys as they entered Michigan after a killer four man sale, he never could’ve imagined what waited behind the doors of the derelict men’s room.

Pete wished, prayed, night after night that he never met that tantalizing hellscape. Convinced that somehow, a torturous sprite of fate caused Tommy to drop his pen that day. Caused Pete, in his abundance of politeness, to stop short and bend over to pick up the fallen writing utensil. Caused him to be the last one to enter the bathroom, relegated to the stall as the others occupied the urinals.

A hole. Dark and alluring and dangerous, gaped in the wall. Pete attempted to ignore the whispers tickling his joined ear from that gaping maw, tried to focus on relieving himself and nothing more. But his cobalt eyes slipped, nostrils flaring at the words dashed in black ink. _For a good time --- > _

Pete zipped up. Tall frame lurching back, though the merriment continued with the fellows, Pete’s soft, reedy laugh pushed too hard. His crooked smile evaporated in between japes like mist broken by an unrelenting summer’s sun. No matter what Pete did, through Chicago, Minneapolis, anywhere, his brain ceaselessly prodded: _Route 75. Lee’s Gas and Go. What if…_

Thrice Pete remained in the men’s room, cock painfully hard as he glided through the condemned opening. Warm, sucking moisture encased him and Pete huffed out a high, broken whine. Pete scrunched his eyes, covered his ears. Maybe if he couldn’t hear the masculine moans radiating through the thin wall. Maybe if he told himself the mouth belonged to a woman, this would be better, more palatable. He wouldn’t be a man surrendering to a baser need he could neither explain nor accept. Pete wouldn’t be...he couldn’t even bring himself to contemplate the word.

Though able to half trick himself into believing his trysts might be with the fairer sex, guilt flooded Pete as he thought of his wife Gertrude on the drive home, who staunchly refused to let them explore anything outside of the bounds of ‘normal sex.’ Pete pleaded with Gertrude. _Honey, it could feel so much better. Let me touch you. I could lick you, too. We’re married. It’s alright… Please..._

But, religious resolve in place and legs locked, Gertrude turned him away, Pete saddened by the fact that in their nearly fifteen years of marriage, he brought her to trembling ecstasy but twice, Gertrude covering her face in shame. Convinced she shouldn’t enjoy an act their bodies were created to perform.

Walking away from Lee’s back then, regret hovered around Pete like his constant fog of cigarette smoke, denying he liked the voracious mouth on the other side of the hole. Determined never to indulge again. Never to admit his true nature.

But Pete did go back. Again, and again, and again. After the third time, curiosity bursting, Pete chose instead to poke his head through the adjacent door. 

Cringing at the amassed grime, Pete hurriedly exited to buy a newspaper from the gas station to protect his suit from the sodden floor. He supposed, considering the function of the room, he shouldn’t have been surprised. _But then again, you shouldn’t know anything about these sorts of places, should you Reynolds?_

Throughout the entirety of his interaction with the cashier, Pete felt as though incriminating words glowed over his fair skin, the kind shouted at him for years. On the playground, in the halls at school, from men who narrowed their eyes when they caught sight of Pete’s sweet, deferential manner. His murmuring voice, which he fought so hard to scrub of the sibilance, and failed. 

Azure eyes downcast and folding the black and white documentation of crime to come under his arm, Pete scurried back to the showers. And, like today, he crouched in almost total darkness, room dully lit by the one little window high, high in the corner of the ceiling which no employee could be bothered to clean. Blinking in the shadows, Pete listened. Waited.

Scrape of a door. Footsteps. Kneecaps sore and shifting uncomfortably from side to side, Pete hoped this might be the one. And he didn’t…

When the telltale noises of a man using the restroom for the purpose agreed upon by polite society greeted his connected ear, Pete slumped back on his heels. Disappointed. Disappointed in his own disappointment.

Clearing of a throat. Creak of the uneven floor with which Pete found himself all too familiar. Rustling. Spit and a squelch.

The head of a cock bopped through the hole like a mouse testing the air for enemies. But this creature, long and thick and angry fuschia, was no rodent. No. Sapphire eyes wide and Adam's apple straining, Pete faced a monster.

Three quick knocks. “Anybody home?” The gruff, male voice set the churning innards of Pete’s gut to boil, his own erection twitching insistently beneath his slacks.

In answer, Pete’s large hand enveloped the stiff column, licking his pink lips, whether in resignation or anticipation, even he couldn’t know. 

Pete didn’t talk. He never did. Often the others, whoever they might be, spouted a nonstop font of lustful phrases. And frankly, Pete loved their words. The breathy, unbridled moans. Lauding his skills. Calling him their baby, their lover. A slut. A whore. Pete soaked every syllable into his aching bones. Unearthing the sounds as he lay in a motel room, town name forgotten, wildly jerking himself beneath the sheets when lucky enough not to share with one of the guys, or slinking off to the shower, toes flexed and cumming hard as he mentally calculated how many more days remained until he could escape to Lee’s.

Now, supple lips enveloping the plush head with a hum, Pete closed his eyes, his heart, and inched forward, burrowing the gargantuan cock into the back of his eager pale throat. Retracting with the appetite of a starving man, Pete slid the paper thin skin up, smacking appreciatively and offering a generous pump.

“Oh fuck... _yes…_ ” The voice issued through the wall, and the deepness of the groan, the mere manliness of the notes floating through the anonymous gap, caused Pete’s massive erection to unfurl. “ _Suck me…”_

Pete gobbled the protruding purple cock in a frenzy, sizable hand lightning fast and head pistoning as strings of drool dangled from the corners of his wide mouth. With each practiced bob, the aria of the other man rose to baritone, then tenor, nudging into the bewitching heat of Pete as much as possible given the partition shrouding their lust. 

_“Oh fuck! Honey, yes! Fuck! You give good head! Keep sucking me! Just like that! Don’t stop! You feel so fucking good, baby! Love when you go deep! Oh fuck! Fuck!”_

Sea of his gaze flooding the shores of his high cheekbones, Pete pressed on, the thick head bashing the gates of his esophagus as he ascended to rendering bliss. “ _Fuck! Suck me! Your mouth! So good! I love it! Fuck, honey! Yes! More! More! Keep going!”_

Jamming an arm into his pants, Pete pulled his beseeching erection, moaning around the mouthful. “ _Oh fuck! Yes! I...fuck! I want to come over there. I could...I could fuck you so good. You want to? Huh, baby?”_

Pete’s furious velocity halted, blinking and frozen before he dropped the man from his swollen pink lips, long fingers shaking around the shaft. “I...no. I can’t...I can’t do that…”

“That’s alright, honey. Just please, please, whatever you do, don’t fucking stop. I’ll do anything. _Fuck…_ ”

Shaking his head to clear his apprehensions, Pete dove forward once more, carved cheeks hollowed as a hint of salt landed atop his flicking tongue. “ _Oh honey! Honey, fuck! I’m gonna fucking cum! Please! Let me cum in that hot mouth! I want to so bad! Swallow my cum! Please, baby, please! I love your mouth! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”_

Removing his hand, Pete sank forward as far as he could go, edges of the damaged wall rough around his nose, his chin as he ensconced the huge cock to the root, throat muscles undulating and waiting in nose-breathing anticipation.

“ _FUCK!”_ A hot, gooey spurt, proof of his accomplishment, shot into the back of Pete’s mouth and he swallowed, fucking his left fist into the wall with reckless abandon, drunk on his unseen partner’s elation. “ _Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Cumming in your hot mouth! Oh fuck! Oh honey...honey… So fucking good! Fuck! Fuck....”_

Millimeters from the precipice and panting, the doused cock left Pete’s quivering lips as he touched his prominent brow to the wall, switching to his dominant wrist to flash over his leaking erection. Nostrils wide and whimpers expanding in his firm chest, Pete didn’t mean to speak aloud, but his delicate, lilting voice repeated all the same, “ _Yes, yes, yes, yes…”_

“You want me to do you now?” The stranger breathlessly beckoned and Pete stilled. Never before did someone offer to return the favor when he positioned himself on this side. Pete assumed the men were much like himself. Fearful. Cautious. Wanting nothing more than to stick their dicks through and get the whole mess over with, get back in their cars. Back to their lives. Back to reality.

“I...I…” Pete stammered, looking down at the imploring cock in his big hand before nervously smoothing over his sharply parted chestnut hair with the other. “I...alright. Yes, please…” 

Scrambling up, due to his height, Pete needed to spread his dress shoes rather wide to thread through the hole without hunching down. But within seconds, a hoovering wet heat surrounded him and both of Pete’s wide palms struck the wall with a gasp. “ _Yes!”_

Whoever this man invisible inches away might be, his talents were remarkable, charming Pete’s considerable cock with expert ease. Head tossed back and cords of his neck displayed in rapture, Pete smacked his hips into the wall before an idea occurred. “ _Yes! Yes! So good! I’m so close! Please! Keep going! Yes! Yes! Yes!_ ” Thumbs under the waistband of his slacks and briefs, Pete wiggled his knees until the fabric bunched down. Wad of spit donning his fingers, Pete reached behind to do something he only delved into twice before, the shame incalculable after each foray.

Lengthy digits hastily curling within himself, Pete plunged, hard and fast and urgent. Desperate to discover the nub which would lead him to glory, Pete lifted one shapely leg, oblivious to the tearing of wool as he flattened to the wall and madly humped, huge hand fiddling between his tiny asscheeks. “ _Yes! Yes! I’m so close! Please! Please, don’t stop! Feels so good! I...I...I…”_

With a final hefty tamp of fingertips into his prostate, an uncontrollable shiver lit over Pete’s broad frame, left eye atwitch as a high noise not unlike a sob breached his rounded teeth. “ _YES!”_ Warm cum throbbed over the anonymous swirling tongue, Pete shuddering as he drained, of his essence, of his morals, before lowering a foot to the ground, thick thighs shaky and sweating into his crisp white shirt. 

“Thank you.” Pete breathed, unsure whether or not gratitude was the correct reaction in this moment, but too courteous not to say so. “Thank you...”

“No problem.” A pair of lips, shockingly tender, kissed the bulbous head of Pete’s spent cock with an amused chuckle. “Thank you, too, honey.”

Pete retreated. Two lifting zippers. Suits tugged back into place and cleared throats. No farewells, no plans to meet again. Both knew nothing else would come from this brief trip into euphoria. Pete Reynolds emerged into the Michigan sunshine. Throwing away the crumpled newspaper and the evidence of his indiscretion before slogging back to his convertible, trunk full of globes, Pete hopelessly wondered if there might be somewhere, anywhere in the world where he could have a genuine life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also accept requests!


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